Michael Deacon follows a frenzied day of reaction to Prime Minister David
Cameron's Cabinet reshuffle.

This was a new type of Cabinet reshuffle. Not in terms of the ministerial changes themselves, but in terms of the way we consumed them. In the past, you might hear the facts of a reshuffle on the lunchtime bulletin, glance at photos of the new intake in the next day’s paper. Today’s reshuffle dominated 24-hour TV news channels, live blogs, Twitter. Reaction, reaction, reaction, now now now. The ceaseless frenzy of excitability made it feel like transfer deadline day in football. I half expected “Sky sources” to reveal that Robin Van Persie had been given Culture.

Curiously, the reshuffle seemed to take place partly overnight. We went to bed with only rumour and speculation to mull over; in the morning we awoke to find Andrew Mitchell confirmed as Chief Whip, Baroness Warsi out as Conservative co-chairman, and Cheryl Gillan gone from the Welsh Office. It felt a bit like some weird political version of Christmas morning. “Mummy Mummy, look! Santa Claus has been in the night! And he’s given me Northern Ireland!”

Both the BBC and Sky News had their top men stationed outside Number 10, shouting questions to the occasional scurrying minister and rarely getting more than a stiff “Good morning” in return. In the background was a mildly surreal touch: across the Downing Street railings hung cheery, multi-coloured bunting. It was there to mark London 2012, although I preferred to imagine that each little triangular flag read, “Happy Sacking Day!”

The first big news was about Ken Clarke. From now on, the erstwhile Justice Secretary would be without portfolio – but he would have “an economic roving brief”. So for example if the Cabinet is planning to throw a party, they’ll get Ken to nip down to Calais in a Ford Anglia on a massive booze cruise.

A little later we learnt Patrick McLoughlin had been given Transport. The BBC’s Norman Smith filled us in. “When it comes to Heathrow, Patrick McLoughlin carries no baggage.” He must have one of those wheeled suitcases.

The ministers leaving Number 10 were still failing to oblige TV with decent quotes, so we were left to imagine the conversations that had gone on inside. “Well, Jeremy. In the eyes of the public you’re a laughing stock and at the Leveson Inquiry you embarrassed both yourself and me. Fancy a major promotion?”

Actually, to give Mr Hunt his due, he was the chattiest with the waiting media. Being Health Secretary was “a huge task, and I’m very much looking forward to getting on with the job,” he said, his eyes widening in the manner of someone who’s either extremely surprised or extremely frightened.

It didn’t take long for a pattern to emerge. To judge by his appointments, the Prime Minister has a keen sense of what voters are thinking. Obviously they’re very happy with the state of the economy, there are loads of jobs about, and business is booming, so no need to change the Chancellor or Business Secretary.

On the other hand, families across the land think of little else but international development and the timetabling of government business in the Commons, so it was vital to get those areas sorted out.